The Emperor and the Monster Read online

  In spite of this, Atlan was overburdened. He had always entrusted the smaller problems to the Brain since they were of course the most numerous but in the present confused political situation the Imperator required reports on every minor detail. The fact that a kind of cold war had broken out between Arkon and Terra had made Atlan try to cover all news items concerning what was for the time-being a merely political conflict.

  The new relationship with his former ally had been very depressing. He had tried to understand the incomprehensible actions of Perry Rhodan but he could make no more sense out of them than could the totally transformed Solar Administrator himself. The activities of the Solar Fleet within the Greater Imperium had forced Atlan to ask the Akons for help. The mother race of the Arkonides had no cause to be fond of the Terrans. After having received a veiled threat from the false Rhodan, he had promised to send the Akons 1000 modern spaceships in return for their help. Hypno-training was in its full course on the planets of the Blue System. Intelligent and clear-thinking Akons lay under the hoods and contacts of the educational accelerators. In a short length of time Atlan would be able to man a giant fleet with an outstanding army of highly trained crews.

  So the two allies had become enemies who now faced each other appraisingly. The obvious hardship and pressure this brought to bear on Arkon would have caused Atlan to attack where any other race was concerned. But Rhodan was his personal friend-or had been until his metamorphosis. Although the Imperator called them 'Barbarians' he harbored a great sympathy for the Terrans.

  The logic circuits of the robot Brain had again called for an attack against the impudent Terran ships. Atlan continued to bypass the mammoth Brain's conclusions and to operate on the basis of emotional considerations. He hoped that Perry Rhodan would come to his senses and put an end to this erroneous action.

  All units of the Arkonide robot fleet had been placed on emergency standby alert. Atlan had held a number of consultations with high dignitaries, to whom his high-pitched activity was more or less a thorn in the side. At the meetings they talked themselves to exhaustion without arriving at any usable decisions.

  In these days Atlan was lonelier than ever before...

  • • •

  The wall in front of Atlan's desk had the effect of being tiled except that each of the 'tile' faces happened to be a video tube. They were all remotely connected to the robot Brain, which utilized these multiple channels for relaying news to him.

  A servant robot came into the office and brought the Imperator a steaming cup of some kind of stimulant. As the machine moved across the smooth floor it was almost noiseless. Atlan drew the cup to him without looking up. In general such types of servo-mechs gave voice to polite expressions during their work but Atlan had ordered this characteristic to be erased from the programs of his personal robots. He considered it nonsense to have one's self-addressed with cultured phrases by a machine.

  The robot left the room as silently as it had entered.

  The visitor who sat beside the Imperator's desk smiled discreetly. Gen. Alter Toseff waited until Atlan had sipped his brew.

  "It's a Terran recipe, General," said Gonozal VIII. "You should try it sometime."

  Toseff only smiled. "Thank you, Your Eminence. I'm afraid my palate is too accustomed to the delights of Saratan."

  Saratan was the Arkonide colonial planet where Gen. Alter Toseff had been representing the interests of the Greater Imperium. He was different from most Arkonides by virtue of his vigor and vitality. In his search for such men, Atlan had located him. The computation sector of the Brain had called all usable officers to Arkon. The selection had been made according to strict specifications yet it had been a letdown for Atlan to find that only 43 men could meet the qualifications. Among the selectees the General had shown the highest number of plus factors. Atlan knew that the Brain's selection had been right again. No traces at all of decadence could be seen in Toseff.

  "You may have to go without those delights for some time, General," announced Atlan. "There are important things for you to do."

  "I stand prepared to fight anywhere in the interests of the Greater Imperium," declared Toseff decisively. "Do you have special orders for me, Imperator?"

  Atlan turned the cup thoughtfully around in his hands. The General's short-cut snow-white hair contrasted sharply with a complexion that was too dark for an Arkonide. Atlan liked this man-he had good rapport with him and suspected that he could rely on him. In spite of an intensified search the robot Brain had only come up with 43 men with the same characteristics as Toseff.

  43-in an entire Imperium.

  Perry Rhodan had millions of men at his disposal, all of whom were so qualified. This was why Atlan needed the help of the still-vigorous and active Akons. However, he was planning to send an Arkonide of Gen. Toseff's quality to every fleet task force that was to be manned by Akons.

  "The assignment you will receive from me can have life or death significance for our Imperium," Atlan revealed. "That's why I am giving you an opportunity to decline the offer-in which case you can then go back to Saratan in status quo, the same as when you left it."

  "I am at your command, Imperator," said the General. "For generations the Toseffs have stood loyally with the Imperium."

  Atlan felt it would be unfair to keep the man in the dark any longer so he shoved an open file toward him across the desk. "Read that," he told him. "In there you will see..."

  He was interrupted by a buzzer. In front of him on the wall of monitor screens a red light had come on. Toseff looked up and appeared to have forgotten the documents.

  "Excuse me a moment," said Atlan. "This is an important message from the Brain." He switched on the communicator unit that was on his desk and another indicator lamp lit up.

  An impartial-sounding voice said: "The high priest of Baalol on Saos requests permission to speak with the Imperator over hypercom transmission."

  Annoyed, Atlan replied: "I'm busy now. The Anti can wait!"

  Undeterred, the mechanical voice continued: "The matter concerns a new infringement by the Solar Fleet. The Imperator has ordered that every report of this nature shall immediately..."

  "Alright!" interrupted Atlan swiftly. "Let's have the hookup!"

  "The priest will speak to you on channel 23," came the instruction.

  Toseff started to get up and leave but Atlan called to him. "Wait, General! It can't hurt anything to have you in on this. It definitely is connected with your assignment later."

  Toseff took his seat again. One of the vid-screens on the wall brightened and out of blurred outlines emerged the lean features of the officiating high priest on Saos. The flick of a button by Atlan sufficed to enable the Anti to see a projection of the Imperator's face on the screens in the Control Central of the temple pyramid on Saos. Atlan had no reason for being kindly disposed toward the priests. Even among the planets of the Arkon System they had infiltrated their narcotic liqueur known as Liquitiv.

  "What do you want?" asked the undying admiral coldly.

  Kutlos' thin face remained expressionless and only his lips moved as he replied: "I have an item of news for you, Your Eminence." It was as though the item, in fact, were not of any special interest.

  Atlan glanced questioningly at Toseff, then back to the screen. "Speak!" he commanded the Anti.

  "The planet Saos belongs to the sovereign territory of the Greater Imperium," said Kutlos calmly.

  Atlan became more impatient. "Are you trying to instruct me in astro-politics?" he inquired frostily.

  Kutlos smiled. Seldom had Atlan ever seen such a humorless smile. He had to concede that the Anti was an expert in hiding his feelings, if he had any. In the other's cold, angular features there was not the slightest trace of emotion.

  "By no means," the priest assured him sarcastically. "But perhaps a lesson in cosmic strategy."

  Gen. Toseff harumphed angrily at this impudent remark but Atlan gave him a signal to calm himself. He surmised that the anti-mutan
t was merely trying to stage his announcement dramatically.

  Nevertheless Kutlos' next statement came as a surprise because of the completely unchanged matter-of-factness in his tone of voice: "Saos is faced with an imminent invasion by a Solar Fleet task force which is under the command of Perry Rhodan."

  Atlan started visibly when Perry's name was mentioned, as though his senses struggled to reject what he had heard. It took him several seconds to recover from the shock. "You are certain that they are Terran ships?" he asked.

  "If you hurry you can see for yourself," suggested the Anti with obvious irony. "But don't wait too long because in the meantime Saos could evaporate under a barrage of fusion bombs. At any rate, Rhodan has appeared here with 4,000 ships."

  "4,000..." Atlan repeated the figure gloomily. "He's leading an attack against a planet of the Greater Imperium with a major fleet formation. That is an open act of war!"

  For the first time Kutlos revealed a spark of intensity. "Will you intervene?" he inquired.

  Atlan's answering look was anything but friendly. It was no task to read the priest's mind at the moment. Nevertheless Rhodan's action was a monstrous provocation which in itself was the same as a declaration of war. "Why don't you think about that question?" said Atlan abruptly, and he cut off.

  Toseff opened his mouth to say something but desisted when he noticed the Imperator's obvious agitation. He felt instinctively that he was not able to help this lonely man in his decisions now. Yet at the same time the General's loyalty found a still more solid anchorage here. He sensed the rapport between himself and the immortal which also made his devotion to the Greater Imperium indestructible.

  "How could the Barbarian do such a thing?" muttered Atlan dejectedly. "Is he using every provocation possible to unleash a galactic war?"

  "Perhaps the priest lied to you," suggested the General without too much conviction. "The Baalols might be quite interested in seeing a clash between Terra and Arkon because the two powers together are invincible to them."

  "Oh, without doubt!" agreed Gonozal VIII. "But I believe the Anti has spoken the truth. He knows only too well that I have the means of checking out his information very swiftly. With a lie he would be risking the existence of the base on Saos."

  The General was somewhat alarmed to see that Atlan was hesitating to reply in kind to the aggressive challenge of the Solar Fleet. His friendship with Perry Rhodan seemed to bind him in invisible chains. He could not bring himself to realize that the Earth's First Administrator could break every agreement and treaty in such a manner as this.

  "Your Highness," admonished Toseff, "any further hesitance on our part will appear to our allied worlds and especially the rebellious colonies to be a sign of weakness. Also our failure to act will only invite more Terran aggressions. There has to be a limit somewhere. Forgive me for pressing you with these objections."

  Atlan pressed the back of his hand across his forehead. The silence in the large room seemed oppressive to Toseff. There was also a pervading chilliness although it could have been his imagination.

  "I thank you for your frankness, General," Atlan answered earnestly. "I like it when somebody speaks an opinion straight out with no flowery attachments. As you well know, that's very rare for our 'dignitaries' in the Council."

  "They would have a hard time arriving at a decision, Imperator," said the representative from Saratan.

  Atlan smiled humorlessly. "There's an old Arkonide proverb that the closer one gets to a breakup of friendships the more patience one must have. But how much patience is that, General?"

  Atlan's question expressed the entire extent of the situation. While attempting on the one hand to avoid an open break with Rhodan he was occupied simultaneously on the other hand with the task of using every means at his disposal to protect the Greater Imperium against further military encroachments.

  Who could say whether or not Atlan might have still considered his friendship with the Terrans, if it had not been for a certain Maj. Albert Kulman?

  Just as Toseff was about to voice an opinion, the robot Brain buzzed and flashed another emergency signal, requesting a connection with Atlan. The General interrupted himself and waited while the Imperator worked his control buttons.

  The same monotonous voice came from the speakers: "A further infringement of the Solar Fleet in the sovereign territory of the Greater Imperium has been reported. A hypercom message from a Springer ship has just been received. A Terran warship fired upon the merchant ship and ordered it to stop. A prize crew then boarded the Trader vessel and proceeded to subject it to inspection. Sonzomon, the Springer commander, is demanding reparations and a public apology from the Terran officer in charge."

  Atlan interrupted the connection to his mechanical aide with the flat of his hand. His lips had thinned out to a sliver. "That is how far the patience goes!" he said coldly. "You stack it high enough and something's going to make it crash. This is it!"

  "So, Your Highness?" Toseff watched him intently.

  Atlan pulled a star map from a nearby chart rack and spread it out on the desk. The General leaned forward and studied it as Atlan took a marker and drew a circle around star cluster M-13. All the Arkonide colonial planets had been previously marked with red dots. Atlan's outstretched finger pointed to one of them.

  "Here!" he said.

  "What is your plan, Sire?" asked Toseff. The star chart drew him strangely as though here at this moment were new signs and symbols of historical destiny.

  "The time has passed, once and for all, General, in which we will take any more from the barbarians of Earth. Arkon is striking back. We will stand for no further encroachments without retaliating!" These words of war were virtually shouted by Atlan. "Our Akon allies are still under the hypno-training process and can't be put to use yet. This means that we'll have to launch a robot fleet. It can match the Terrans in fire power but can't react as fast or come up with all the amazing trickery that Rhodan's men always employ during a cosmic space battle."

  The Arkonide from Saratan tensed as he asked his next question: "Imperator, do you wish to send a fleet to rescue Saos?"

  Atlan's fist slammed down on the map target. "10,000 ships should be enough," he said.

  "Ten-thousand...?!" echoed Toseff, stammering in surprise.

  "Further formations will be placed on standby for backup," declared the immortal admiral. "If Rhodan wants to conjure up a test of power, then he shall have it!"

  The General gazed silently at the map. In his mind's eye he had a picture of the 10,000 Arkonide robotships bursting out of hyperspace upon the astonished Terrans. It was something to rekindle the vision of the Imperium's former splendor. He saw the names and faces of the great ones of previous generations passing before him. His eyes gleamed when he recalled such legendary figures as Ufagar, Salaston and Petesch III.

  True, the Imperium had been scarred and wounded, it was splintered and torn, but it was still much more than an empty concept. At its head stood a determined man who was ready to use every means at his command to prevent a collapse.

  "We shall defeat them, Imperator!" Toseff cried. "We'll sweep them out of the Greater Imperium and teach them such a lesson that they'll never dare come back again!"

  Atlan shook his head. "Now you're speaking like a Terran, General," he said softly. "If, however, you can manage to operate like a Terran you'll know how hard it is to overcome them. They have an iron will not to be stopped by anything. This forward-striving compulsion is symbolized by just one man."

  "Perry Rhodan," added Toseff.

  "Who strikes him down gives a deadly blow to Terra," said Atlan. He pressed a button and the servant robot came in quietly-so soundlessly in fact that it startled Toseff. "My conference with Leschtos must be postponed indefinitely," Atlan reported to the robot. "I deeply regret that he has had to come this far in vain."

  Toseff quickly caught the significance of this instruction. "Does that mean, Your Eminence, that you are going to accompany the Fleet?
"

  The Imperator chuckled briefly. "Just you and I as the only active Arkonides-leading the mechanical crews of 10,000 robotships. How does that strike you, General?"

  Toseff smiled. Although a veteran warrior with much experience, he had still preserved a healthy sense of humor. "As quite promising," he answered.

  3 minutes later, Atlan made contact with the Brain. Positronic programming circuits began to work at top speed. It was necessary to find the most strategic attack approach for lifting the siege of Saos. Meanwhile, Atlan made preparations for taking command of the flagship. Toseff was bubbling over with ideas. He was faster than the giant Arkon 'think tank' in working out a battle plan.

  • • •

  Thousands of light-years distant, Maj. Albert Kulman sat in his command chair on board the light cruiser Zumbasi and spoke confidently to his pilot, Villaseluces. "I think we handled that situation correctly. Now the Springers know they can't get through any part of the galaxy without being checked. It will be a constructive warning to them." He leaned back into the pliant upholstery with a sense of satisfaction.

  In that same instant a certain relay clicked in the robot Brain on Arkon 3. A directional signal beam was automatically transmitted. Minutes later the mighty impulse engines of 10,000 Arkonide warships thundered into life. They were harbingers of a black dawn in the history of the galaxy.

  A tragic collision was threatened between two mighty fleets.

  3/ THE GAME OF DEATH

  Cardif's fingers clutched at the place where he knew the cell activator to be in his bloated chest. The Antis had lured him into the trap of procuring this device. It did not occur to Cardif's tortured mind that It, the multiple being on Wanderer, could have had something to do with this change of his cells. He had never comprehended the ambiguous warning nor did he see its significance now.

  He would never understand it. The cell division was proportional in every part of his body. His brain had been affected as much as any other organ. Cardif's mental condition was such that he no longer even recognized the danger of a betrayal of his identity by the Antis. Blindly he relied on his plan of revenge which would place the planet Saos in his hands. There he hoped to obtain the information necessary for his cure.